


Friends of Liber

by dragonyfox



Series: Friends of Liber (mob au) [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, also half of those ships havent happened yet lmao, dont ask me how this happened i have a thing for mob aus okay, im not tagging all of the characters im sorry thats too much effort, this is the origin story essentially
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6368887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonyfox/pseuds/dragonyfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are we cursing about?” Courfeyrac asked from the doorway. “Who did what? Did someone get drunk and do something dumb?”</p><p>“No, but I think I did something bad,” Combeferre said slowly. “Officer Williams is dead.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends of Liber

None of the Amis had seen any of Patron-Minette in weeks.

“There’s some infighting going on,” Jehan had said, after Courfeyrac asked him where his boyfriend was, “it’s nothing dangerous, it’s just a little time consuming for all of them.”

Montparnasse was the first to show up.

“Where have you been?” Combeferre asked. “Jehan said there was infighting, and he didn’t seem worried, but…”

“I’m fine,” Montparnasse said. “It’s been resolved. Babet has control of Patron-Minette, and I’ll be there to pick up the pieces when it crumbles. Until then, I’m not helping him with a goddamn thing, the bastard.”

“Babet may or may not have lit one of Parnasse’s storage units on fire,” Jehan stage whispered.

“Not one with clothes, I should hope?” Combeferre asked.

“The one with my favorite clothes,” Montparnasse growled. “And until that motherfucker apologizes and reimburses me, I ain’t doing shit for him.”

Combeferre nodded sympathetically, but didn’t continue because Enjolras was unexpectedly climbing on top of a chair, and that always meant bad news. A hush fell over all of the Amis as they waited for his announcement.

“Gavroche has heard that Officer Williams is being set free, with no repercussions for shooting that kid, Terry Brown.” Enjolras paused, and worked his jaw for a second, glaring at nothing. “This is unacceptable. We need to do something about this.”

“Kill him,” Combeferre offered.

Montparnasse nearly snapped his neck when he turned to look at him. That wasn’t the first time Combeferre had suggested murder in a deadpan tone, but something was different this time, and Montparnasse spent the rest of the discussion trying to decide just what it was.

It struck him, just as Courfeyrac was suggesting an unannounced march, that Combeferre’s eyes were never that cold when he suggested murder. Before, he’d always had a glint of dark humor, but now he was silent and cold in a way Montparnasse was unused to.

“Ferre,” Montparnasse whispered over Jehan’s shoulder.

Combeferre looked at him.

“I’ll do it,” he said. “Kill Officer Williams. I can make it look like a suicide.”

“You know I don’t mean those jokes,” Combeferre said, forcing a smile onto his face. “It’s just dark humor.”

“Try again,” Montparnasse said dryly. “You’re talking to me, buddy. I know the difference between dark humor and seriousness.”

Combeferre frowned. “Even if I were serious, I couldn’t afford you.”

Montparnasse scoffed. “Of course you couldn’t. But I’m not charging you. Friends and family discount. Hell, we can say I’m officially joining your club and we can call it my contribution to the cause.”

“I-“ Combeferre paused, and swallowed. “I wouldn’t be adverse to the news that he died.”

“Consider it done, then.”

.

That night, Combeferre had a hard time falling asleep. He kept thinking about Montparnasse’s offer, and if he’d actually do it. What would the fallout be like? What kind of suicide would he make it look like? Would he be caught?

He did sleep, but it was uneasy, filled with vague and dark images and a terrifying sense of satisfaction.

When he woke and checked his phone, there was a single message left for him in the middle of the night.

_Montparnasse: done! <3_

“Oh fuck,” Combeferre said aloud.

“What are we cursing about?” Courfeyrac asked from the doorway. “Who did what? Did someone get drunk and do something dumb?”

“No, but I think I did something bad,” Combeferre said slowly. “Officer Williams is dead.”

Courfeyrac frowned. “I’ve been watching the news all morning. There hasn’t been any news about him yet at all-”

 _“This just in!”_ both of them turned to look at the TV through Combeferre’s doorway. _“Officer Williams, recently found not guilty in the murder of Terry Brown, was found dead in his home. His wife discovered his body in the bathtub with a note. The officers on the scene are declaring it a suicide.”_

Courfeyrac turned back to look at Combeferre.

Combeferre stared back blankly.

“Talk,” Courfeyrac ordered.

He told him.

.

Courfeyrac called an emergency meeting, and told Jehan to bring Montparnasse.

“What’s going on, Courf?” Enjolras asked. “Usually it’s me calling emergency meetings. This isn’t about anyone’s love lives, is it?”

“Nope!” Courfeyrac replied, too chipper. “Ask Combeferre and Montparnasse what they did yesterday!”

Montparnasse grinned and buffed his fingernails on his coat.

Combeferre sat, resolute and silent.

“I almost hesitate to ask,” Enjolras said. “What did you two do?”

“Wait, is this meeting about Montparnasse taking care of Williams last night?” Jehan asked. “If you’re worried, it was a clean job. I kept watch. He didn’t even scream.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Courfeyrac said, “I’m not sure what about this scenario is more terrifying, Ferre calling a hit or you participating in it.”

“Okay, I’m going to need everyone to back up and start over,” Grantaire said. “Who did what that resulted in that Williams guy dying?”

Everyone turned to Combeferre, waiting.

“Montparnasse offered his skills,” Combeferre said finally. “I didn’t exactly turn him down, but I also did not directly ask for this.”

“He implied that he wanted Officer Williams dead pretty seriously,” Montparnasse added. “I figured that since I’m out of Patron-Minette until Babet pulls his head out of his ass, I might as well use my skills to help your cause.”

Jehan coughed, flushed a little with embarrassment. “I might have encouraged that.”

Grantaire threw his hands into the air. “Christ, I stop paying attention for fourteen hours and Jehan decides to go Boondocks Saints on us! At Combeferre’s request!”

“Hey,” Jehan protested, “at least we didn’t accidentally shoot someone’s cat! That’s more than the guys in Boondock Saints can say!”

“Oh, so you killed the guy, but spared his cat?”

“Actually, I’m the one who killed the guy, Jehan just kept an eye out for the wife,” Montparnasse corrected. “It’s an important job, and while I love Jehan- shut up, I do- he’s not ready for the messier parts of murder. His knife skills need some work.”

“Fuck you, Parnasse, I did fine on that last cadaver!”

“That was a cadaver, little bird, not a real person.”

“That is way more information than I ever wanted, you two,” Enjolras said loudly, drowning out the dregs of their argument, “and it’s too late now to worry about who did what. It happened, let’s move on. We can discuss further events like this later, but I have class in half an hour, and I know I’m not the only one.”

Courfeyrac yelped and bolted, with Enjolras and Feuilly behind him. From there, most of the rest of the Amis filtered out, until the only ones left were Combeferre, Grantaire, Jehan, and Montparnasse.

“Now that Apollo’s gone, are you alright, Ferre?” Grantaire asked softly.

“I feel rather guilty,” Combeferre admitted. “But…”

“Ah, you feel bad for not feeling bad,” Jehan said. “It’s okay. Think of it like this- history and statistics say that Williams would have been more likely to do it again. I did the same thing, and it’s alright Ferre.”

“It’s normal,” Montparnasse added. “Don’t tell her I told you, but even Eponine had a silly little crisis like this. You’ll get over it and before you know it, you’ll be coordinating your own little gang!”

Combeferre dropped his head into his hands and laughed.

.

The subject wasn’t brought up again until the next week’s meeting, and even then not until the core members had relocated to Enjolras’ apartment.

“Alright, now we can talk about the events from earlier this week,” Enjolras said. “What does everyone think about the death of Officer Williams?”

“I mean, it was kind of fucked up, but I’m glad to know he won’t be able to hurt anyone else, and that poor kid got justice,” Courfeyrac admitted.

“As a medical student, I want to say ‘do no harm’,” Joly said, “but as a person with feelings, I’m really glad Williams is dead.”

“I’m with him,” Bossuet agreed.

Bahorel shrugged. “It’s not my scene, but I figure it needed to be done.”

Feuilly nodded. “Absolutely.”

“I gotta say, even I can’t really argue this. It was fucked up, and I stand by what I said about this being kind of Boondocks Saints style,” Grantaire said, and tipped his bottle towards Combeferre, “props to you for having the balls none of the rest of us do.”

“What do we want to do from here?” Enjolras asked. “While I am sorry that your actions upset you, Ferre, I have to say that there’s a real opportunity for real-world improvement using this method. Does anyone agree?”

It was a unanimous yes.

“I’m offering mine and Marius’ apartment as a safe house in case of any accidents,” Cosette said brightly.

“Should we… organize?” Marius offered hesitantly.

Enjolras tilted his head. “How do you mean?”

“Like, organize like Patron-Minette is, was organized.” Marius explained hesitantly, “Montparnasse could teach some of us to do what he does- if he wants to, of course!”

“I’d be up for it,” Montparnasse said. “So long as nobody fucks up too bad and gets blood on me, I’m game for helping you organize. And it’ll piss off Babet, that’s always a bonus.”

“I don’t know about this,” Combeferre said.

“You’re the one who started it,” Jehan pointed out.

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Combeferre snapped, “but I still don’t know about this. It’s one thing for me to say the wrong thing and get a man murdered, and another entirely for any of us to consciously decide to assassinate people and run a- a gang!”

“You don’t even feel guilty about ordering the assassination,” Enjolras protested.

Combeferre covered his face with his hands. “No! And that’s exactly why it’s dangerous for us to be thinking about this!”

“A vote, then,” Enjolras said. “Everyone in favor of organizing, raise your hand.”

The only three present who did not raise their hands were Combeferre, Montparnasse, and Grantaire. 

“I know Combeferre’s reason, but you just said you were willing to assist us,” Enjolras said to Montparnasse, and then turned to Grantaire, “and I’d like to know your reason for voting against as well.”

“I’m not part of your core,” Montparnasse said tilting his head and frowning. “I didn’t know I was allowed a vote.”

“I’m not against,” Grantaire said quietly. “I’ll follow you, Apollo, you know this.”

Enjolras paused long enough for Courfeyrac to continue the conversation.

“Sorry, Ferre, you’ve been outvoted,” he said, sounding very unapologetic. “We can leave you out if you like, but do you really want to leave me and Enjolras in charge of a mob?”

“Absolutely not, you two will let things go too far and then we’ll all be fucked,” Combeferre replied immediately.

Enjolras cleared his throat. “It’s settled, then. What shall we call ourselves?”

“I thought we already had a name?” Feuilly asked.

“We do, but I would rather keep our activist group separate,” Enjolras replied. “I have no doubt that what we’re about to do is going to be dangerous, and while I trust the other members with my life, I do not trust them enough to include them in this.”

“Ah, you’re going the secretive route,” Montparnasse said. “Clever. Well, if you’re looking for names, you can always go with ‘friends of cats’.”

Jehan slapped Montparnasse’s shoulder. “You’re just saying that to piss off Babet!”

“I am,” Montparnasse admitted shamelessly.

Enjolras shook his head. “It could work, but it’s too close to our activist group’s name.”

“What about followers of Apollo?” Grantaire suggested.

“Too obvious,” Joly argued.

“Dionysus was a god of resurrection,” Jehan said. “We can say we’re resurrecting the revolution?”

“Wasn’t there a god of liberty? Who was that?” Feuilly asked.

“Goddess, actually. She was called Libertas.” Enjolras then looked directly at Grantaire. “But I rather like the Dionysus idea, only- let’s use Liber. He was a patron of the lower classes, and was associated with civil disobedience.”

Grantaire stared at Enjolras, dumbfounded.

“Followers of Liber?” Bahorel asked

“No, Enjolras is our leader, and we all know R is Dionysus. It should be Friends of Liber,” Joly said. “Also, it’s a pun!”

“Friends of Liber, I like it!” Courfeyrac exclaimed. “Let’s celebrate! Enjolras, where do you keep your liquor? If we’re calling ourselves the Followers of Liber, it’s only right that we drink, no?”

“In the kitchen, over the sink,” Enjolras answered, still looking at Grantaire.

Drinks were swiftly handed out, and Grantaire stood up, finally breaking eye contact with Enjolras.

“To uncivil disobedience!” he shouted. “To Liberty!”

“To Liber!”


End file.
